


The Further Adventures of 20 Questions--Deep Freeze

by jdrush



Series: 20 Questions [11]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Boykisses, Dialogue-Only, Fluff, Humour, M/M, minor stage directions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-12-21 21:40:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11953179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdrush/pseuds/jdrush
Summary: The boys are trapped in a meat locker.  Yeah, it’s a cliché.  Deal with it.





	The Further Adventures of 20 Questions--Deep Freeze

TITLE: The Further Adventures of 20 Questions--Deep Freeze  
AUTHOR: J.D. Rush  
FANDOM: BBC1 Sherlock  
PAIRING: Sherlock/John (as if there’s another)  
RATING: PG-13 for language and boykisses--you know, to keep warm.  
SUMMARY: The boys are trapped in a meat locker. Yeah, it’s a cliché. Deal with it.  
DISCLAIMER: These lovely lads belong to Sir A. C. Doyle, BBC1, and Lords Moffat and Gatiss. One quick, throw-away line belongs to Paramount’s, “Airplane”. I apologize in advance. And another quick throw-away line comes from “Cabin Pressure”. No apologizes needed for that one.  
AUTHOR’S NOTE: No betas were harmed in the making of this fic. All mistakes are my own.

 

“Well, here’s another nice mess you’ve gotten us into.”

“A very helpful thing to say, John. Because of course sarcasm is going to provide us the means of getting out of here.”

“It was a joke, Sherlock.”

*blank look*

“Laurel and Hardy.”

*continued blank look*

“You know, I can accept that you don’t understand my pop-culture references. That you don’t get ‘Doctor Who’ or ‘Top Gear‘ or even, as impossible as it seems, James Bond movies. But surely even YOU have heard of Laurel and Hardy!”

“The solicitors we caught last year selling fake Faberge eggs?”

*deep sigh* “I don’t know why I bother.”

“You keep saying that, yet you persist with these asinine references that I have no. . .um. . . reference for.”

“Very elegantly stated.”

*smirk* “And don‘t call me Shirley.”

“You are such a dick.”

“So I‘ve been told.”

“Yeah, by me.” *looks around refrigerated room* “So, how do we get out?”

“Obvious.” *takes phone out of pocket* “We just call Lestrade and. . .” *muttered curse* “Damn. No reception.”

“You just figured that out, boy-genius? In case you haven’t noticed, we’re locked in a meat freezer! There aren’t too many sides of beef needing bars.”

“You are awfully cranky.”

“I’m awfully cold! And I‘m apparently going to die next to a frozen cow. Gotta say I never saw THAT coming.”

*sits down on a crate* “We all have to go sometime.”

*sits down on crate beside Sherlock* “That‘s a given. Just would have been nice if ‘sometime’ was years from now.”

“Oh, don’t tell me you would have been happier sitting around, wasting away, old and decrepit, eyesight and vital organs failing, watching reruns of ‘Are You Being Served’ and just waiting for the grim reaper to arrive.”

“This is why you’re such a joy at parties.”

“Admit it, John--this is a much more fun way to go.”

“Fun? I’m going to freeze to death beside an unprocessed Big Mac and you call it fun.”

“Well, maybe not fun. But definitely unique.”

“Yeah, make sure they put that on my grave marker. ‘He didn’t have fun dying, but at least it was unique’. “

“Just think of the obituaries.”

“I’d really rather not.”

“ ‘The Sun’ will have a field day. ‘Too Cool Duo in Mystery Mishap’.”

“Sherlock, you’re really not helping here.”

“Okay, then, how would you prefer to kick it?”

“This is not the most pleasant conversation to be having, I’ll have you know.”

“You started it. And, besides, it‘ll pass the time until we‘re rescued.”

“IF we‘re rescued.”

“Trust me, John.”

“That‘s what got me into trouble in the first place.” *stomping feet to keep warm* “If I had only listened to Sergeant Donovan, I‘d be home right now, curled under a blanket, hot cuppa in my hand. . .”

“And bored out of your puny little mind.”

*grin* “Yeah, there is that.”

“So. . .you were saying about our dramatic end. . .”

*shrugs shoulders* “I dunno. Always figured we’d go out in a blaze of glory. Explosion, maybe. Gun fight. Car crash. Plane shot out of the sky. You know, that whole ‘live fast, die young, leave a good looking corpse‘ thing.”

*another blank look* “I‘m not sure. . .”

“James Dean.”

“The international art thief?”

“The 1950’s movie star.”

“Ah. I see.”

“No, you don’t.”

“No, I don’t.”

*teeth chattering* “Right. ‘Rebel Without a Cause’ just jumped to the top of our ‘must-see’ movie list. If we ever get out of here to FINISH the ‘must-see’ movie list, that is.”

“You’re shivering.”

“Real stretch of your deduction skills there, Mr. Holmes.”

“No need to get snippy. Here.” *pulls off long wool coat and drapes it over John*

“What are you doing?”

“I should think that would be obvious even to you.”

“Don‘t be such a idiot, Sherlock.”

“You need to keep warm.”

“So do you.”

“Stop being silly, John. You’re the one who’s complaining about the cold.”

“And you will be, too, in just a couple of minutes without your coat.”

*already shivering* “Rubbish. It’s just mind over matter.”

“Not when that ’matter’ is 10 degrees below zero, you arse!”

“This is the thanks I get for giving you my coat?”

“Oh, for Christ‘s sake. . .” *shifts coat until it’s draped over both of them*

“John, stop. . .I’m fine. . .I don’t need it. I’ve got my scarf and. . .”

“Shut it, Sherlock. I‘m not going to have you freeze to death while I‘m toasty warm. Well, fairly warm. Well, warmer than I was. Anyway, this way we can conserve body heat.”

“I believe we’re supposed to be naked for that.”

“You really want to undress in here?”

*glances around at the cow carcasses hanging from the ceiling* “Now that you mention it. . .”

“Exactly. So let’s listen to the one with the medical degree for once and tuck in tighter.”

“Okay.” *wraps arm around John; tucks in tighter* “Actually, this is rather nice.”

“Nice?!”

“You know, quiet. Comfy. Bracing. Might be a nice place to visit in the summer. Take along a book. Bring a doorstop to prevent the whole ‘getting locked in with no way to get out‘ situation.”

*eye roll* “Oh, great. . .you’re already delirious.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I have all my facilities. In fact. . .” *digs left hand into pocket of coat; withdraws gloves* “Voila!”

*caustic* “Lovely. Two gloves. Four cold hands.”

“Not for long.” *slips gloves on his hands*

“Thanks a lot, Sherlock. You could have at least given me one of them!”

“You are such a fusspot. Gimme.”

“Wha. . .?” *long slender hands cradle shorter, stubbier hands and rub gently* “Oh. That’s. . . that’s good.”

*smugly* “Thought so myself. And by the way, you‘re wrong.”

“There’s a surprise. About what now?”

“Your theories regarding our inevitable end.”

“Then enlighten me, o’ wise one.”

*removes scarf, carefully wraps it around John’s numb hands* “It’s simple, Doctor Watson. We never end. We go on forever, through eternity. Together. Until time stops and the stars disappear and beyond.”

*stunned* “Wow. Now I KNOW you’re delirious! Waxing poetic like that.”

“You sound surprised, John.”

“Indeed I am, my dear sir.”

*sniffs haughtily* “I don’t see why it should. I am a man of many talents: scientist, musician, superlative sleuth, athlete, actor, philosopher, master of disguise, lock-pick extraordinaire. . .”

“Lover.”

“Of course you’d pick that one.”

*drops head on slim shoulder* “It was my favourite side of you. And I’m the only one allowed to see it.”

“You’re the only one worthy of seeing it.”

*yawns* “A privilege I held dear.”

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Talking in the past-tense.”

*another yawn* “I didn’t know I was.”

“And the yawning. Stop that, too.”

“Can’t do much about that. Hypothermia setting in. . .”

“Not yet. It‘s too soon.”

“You can’t stop it, Sherlock.”

“Nonsense. We still have plenty of time.”

*forlornly* “Not enough. Not nearly enough.”

“I’ve done studies. It would take the average man at least 22 minutes to. . .”

*feeble laugh* “You and your studies and your experiments. You’re a nutter, Sherlock. Completely and utterly mad.”

“It was for a case.”

“Of course it was. The Work always came first.”

*shakes head* “No, it hasn’t. Not for a long time now.”

“It’s okay. I didn’t mind coming in second. At least I was in the top two.”

“You’re doing it again--talking in the past.”

“Sorry. I’ll try better.”

“And you weren’t second. You were always number one. If I made you feel otherwise, I‘m sorry.”

“Now I KNOW I’ve died and gone to heaven. Sherlock Holmes just apologized.”

“You’re not dying, John. Just. . .hang on.”

“I’ll try. Can’t promise anything.”

*pulls John in closer* “I wish I knew what else I could do.”

“You’re doing fine, Sherlock.”

“But your lips are starting to turn blue.”

*looks up; smirks* “Then perhaps you should warm them, my love.”

“Now?”

“Can you think of a better way to spend our last moments on earth?”

“I’m going to get us out of this, John. I promise.”

“Well, in case we don’t. . .”

“We will.“

“In case. . .I want you to know that you were the best thing that ever happened to me, Sherlock, and I wouldn’t have changed a thing. Not one single crazy, ridiculous, amazing minute with you.”

“Don’t.”

*shakes off scarf; runs a trembling hand gently down one exquisite cheekbone* “And I’d do it all again. Even this. Because I’m with you.”

“Me, too. Exactly the same.”

“At least we’ll die together. I can’t imagine a life without you.”

*distressed* “John, don‘t. Please.”

“Then DO something about it.”

*mouths crush together in a hungry, life-affirming kiss, filled with sighs and whimpers and half-murmured declarations such as “love you”, “don’t leave me”, “best man I ever knew”, “hang on”, “wouldn‘t have missed it for the world”, “I can’t lose you”, “wanted more time” *

“Well, isn’t THIS cozy?”

*John and Sherlock pull apart and stare at the man in the freezer’s open doorway--one with relief, one with irritation*

*Sherlock, annoyed* “Mycroft! What the hell are YOU doing here?”

*checking manicure; makes mental note to schedule an appointment soon* “I was in the neighborhood--lovely area, by the way--and decided I’d pop in and save my baby brother from himself yet again. Hello, John.”

*John, smiling* “You are a sight for sore eyes, Mycroft! A few more minutes and we would have been goners.”

“Don’t exaggerate, John. We had plenty of time.”

“He means ‘thank you’.”

“Stop putting words in my mouth.”

*leaning casually on ever-present umbrella* “At least someone can appreciate a well-timed rescue. Ambulance should be here any moment to bring you both to hospital to be checked-out but in the meantime. . .Ah! Anthea, my dear. Right on schedule.”

*Anthea breezes into the freezer; drapes blankets over the two shivering men; hands a thermos of tea to John; turns on her pretty little 4-inch heel; flashes flirty smile to Mycroft on the way out*

*Mycroft, satisfied grin* “So efficient. Best spent money in my budget.”

*John, taking sip of tea, sighs* “I will never take another cup of tea for granted again.”

*Sherlock, glares at his brother* “I had the situation well in hand, you meddlesome berk!”

*pleasant smile, pointed look at Sherlock‘s hand on John‘s thigh* “Indeed. I can see that now. I wasn’t aware that you could be such a ‘hand-y’ fellow, brother-mine.”

“Don’t listen to him, Mycroft. He’s just being a clot”

*mutters* “Not a clot.”

“Yes, you are. Here.” *hands him the cup of tea* “Drink.”

“It’s probably spiked with mind-control drugs or something.“

“Even if it is, it’s hot and delicious, so drink.”

*Sherlock drinks, continuing to glare at his brother*

“How did you find us anyway?”

“Well, John, we were monitoring the CCTV cameras. . .”

*grumbles* “Spying.”

“MONITORING, Sherlock. . .and we happened to notice you two chasing a rather shady character into this building.”

“No-nose Nowicki.”

“Yes, that’s the chap. Five minutes later we saw him running out the emergency exit, but neither of you made an appearance. It didn’t take a consulting detective to deduce something was wrong, so I dispatched reinforcements posthaste.”

“And you came around yourself to mock me, of course.”

“Never, Sherlock. I came to experience one of your little adventures first-hand and to reassure myself you were in good health.” *slight pause* “Though, perhaps a bit of gloating was involved in the decision.”

“You are such a prat.”

“I do try my best. And you’ll be pleased to hear my men have apprehended No-nose. Lestrade is on his way to pick him up.”

*groans* “Can this day get any worse?”

“Don’t forget--Mummy’s birthday on Sunday. I’ll send a car at 9:00. Please be on time. And don‘t forget to bring a gift.”

“It was a rhetorical question, you stupid sot!”

“You’re invited, as well, John. Mummy adores you. Your presence always makes Sherlock’s more. . .palatable.”

“Ta. And I’ll be sure Sherlock is there.”

“I’m sure you will. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must get back to the office.”

“Give my love to Liz and Phil.”

“I’ll be sure to pass along your regards, Sherlock. Oh, and by the by, you’re welcome. Good day, gentlemen.” *slight bow, turns and leaves*

*sarcastic* “Lovely. Now we‘re indebted to the loathsome git.”

“Preferable to the alternative.”

“I’m not so sure of that. You know he’s not going to let me live this down.”

“At least we’re both alive to suffer his ridicule.” *stands up awkwardly; holds out hand* “C’mon, Shirley. . . let’s get out of here. Hot shower, dinner, and bed--in whatever order you wish.”

*grabs hand; rises* “Brilliant idea, Doctor. What are you in the mood for?”

“Anything but hamburgers.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

 

THE END

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm slowly posting my old stories to this account. This was first posted on my livejournal in June, 2012.


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